Another Prufrock

Why do I keep asking myself questions
Instead of making statements?
Is it all just pretense?
And why do I watch shows that are rigged?
To root for the loser?
I listen to the same song over and over
Until I kill it- it can’t possibly mean anything more to me.
I always force the moment to its crisis,
Then turn and walk away.
There is no time left for visions and revisions.
I resign myself to urgency and do nothing.
I have grown from anger to idealism to depressed compassion.
Now I’m tired and just want to know what comes next.
As I become just another Prufrock-
Drowned by human voices
The sirens may save me.